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Patricia Reding
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Science Fiction & Fantasy
Author Insight
"What if - For Past and Present
Things could have gone so many different ways in the past. Things in the future still could. The "what if" question is one that, at times, haunts me in my writing. That's because every step taken in response to the question is one that leads down a specific road while simultaneously foreclosing other "what if" paths. Once I've given someone green eyes, they are not blue. Once I've assigned a past to a character, that past will color that character's future. The thing about approaching things as a reader, is that you don't know which "what if" question the author may have asked herself, or what answer she ultimately settled on until you discover where she takes you. So here, what if Chaya is a spy? What if Marshall missed a key clue about how to proceed because he was distracted by Chaya's bluebird-like eyes and of her tale of woe, rather than being focused on Cark? What if Chaya has plans other than those she indicated to Marshall/Mansur for the weapon she requested from him here? What if she becomes the key to gaining the intelligence Marshall needs? What if she becomes the bar that keeps him from that goal? What if ... ? I guess you'll have to read on to discover the answers ...
Book Excerpt
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He could think of nothing more to say. He knew that no words of comfort would suffice.
“Mansur,” she whispered, “please get me a weapon. Any weapon. Please.”
“Chaya, I can’t let you hurt yourself.”
“Oh no,” she interrupted as the men drew nearer, “it’s not for me. I’ve already decided that. I’d thought to do just that at one time, but no longer. I wouldn’t use it against myself.”
“You plan to kill him?”
She huffed. “One way or the other, I’m going to know freedom. If it takes Cark’s life to do it, then so be it. It’s just that he keeps all his weapons locked up at all times.” She choked back a cry. “Please, Mansur . . . in the name of the Good One, won’t you help me?”
With his back to her, he nodded, as the men neared. So intent had he been on Chaya’s story, that he’d heard nothing of their conversation, even once they’d come back within the range that would have allowed for him to do so.
“I’ll do my best,” he whispered, his head bowed so that no one could see his lips move.
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